


Prosecutor's Trial

by LawfulCreations



Category: Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Other
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-07
Updated: 2017-10-07
Packaged: 2019-01-10 08:20:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,586
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12295167
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LawfulCreations/pseuds/LawfulCreations
Summary: "Do you have anything you regret? Something you were forced to do and like it? I remember each and every spark, every moment, every killing blow. You remember everything that changes you."The story of Prosecutor of Tarn and how this Decepticon learned that to hop, you need to run a mile.





	Prosecutor's Trial

**Author's Note:**

> Shout out to @Cytellax for inspiring me to write about my own TF OC.   
> Feel free to look at his design here--  
> https://ibb.co/f6sPbG
> 
> I hope you enjoy this first chapter!

Five hundred and two thousand, seven hundred and sixty four. 

I was harvested as a killing machine. I was trained under many wings, many wheels, and many guns. It was the life I was destined for, if you believe in that sort of thing, and I knew that I was going to succeed just as much as anyone else, but everyone hated each other. Everyone knew it was nothing personal. Rule number one, you had to hate them because Primus forbid, if you actually liked anyone, the probability of them dying on the next raid was high. Feelings are a weakness so you look after yourself and no one else. 

I was a part of one of the final harvests in the Deception city of Tarn during The Great War. You could say it was a final push to get more sparks in the air, firing for a cause none of us were here for. We had no choice but I was stupid. I failed the first rule and gained trust for one of my harvest mates. He was smaller than most of us. He was probably smarter than I too. It only got him killed. Rewarp of Tarn. Yellow hue spark, blue frame, minibot. There are times where I wonder if he would have lived if somehow he was bigger. Who knows? He was too smart for power. Brains over brawn type bot. He was smarter than our commander surely, he could have been smarter than anyone in Tarn. It was his mouth that killed him. We shared habsuites. He spoke his thoughts out loudly. I didn't mind the noise as I don't speak too much but it was nice to get a look inside his mind. He was critical of brute force over strategy. I never told anyone. It had been hundreds of years before he had finally had enough and he spoke out against our commanders. They remained calm, he told me.  
“We understand how you feel, Rewarp. We promise you that things here in Tarn will change once you return from your scheduled raid.”   
He never came back. I wasn’t sure how to feel when he never came back to his habsuite. I should have seen it coming but part of me thought that he was too smart to die. Of course, I know better now. You’re never too smart to die. 

— — —

After climbing ranks, I found myself in the position to request my own raids. I wanted to work alone. I was great in stealth and in one on one combat. I feel as though it’s stereotypical but I know that I was getting better recognition than those of higher ranks. I was told I could even run my own team in another city. I wasn’t interested. I never wanted to become the biggest and baddest Decepticon. I just wanted to do what I wanted. Alone. You can’t always get what you want but I politely turned the position down. The last thing I wanted was to get recognized by those I didn’t even want a glance from.

How dare I. How dare I not accept this high ranking position to lead Deceptions into battle. For what? Who knows. Others thought I was planning something. There was no way that I said no to that position without having a backup. I wanted out. I really wanted to get out of here — to not fight a battle that was going to be lost. Many would call me a coward. I was called that a couple times. You let that shit roll right off of you. 

Next thing you know, my next mission I was assigned was to lead a small strike team to clear a small Autobot base. Should be no problem. I should have thought better.   
Relatively small base, estimated 7 to 10 sparks on lot. Bring 13 cons max, take no survivors. This was a job a sparkling could do. I only recruited 10, everything was normal. The next day, we’re on route. Everyone hates each other. Iron Claw was one I knew hated me specifically. I also knew he told everyone else about it. I should have known something was up when he volunteered for the mission. How was I supposed to know that not only did he have an iron claw, he apparently had a silver tongue as well. 

Everyone on the team was a fucking snake for all I know. We get there and scoped the exterior from above. The land was barren and flat. No security besides some minor ones immediately outside the building. Could have been here before the war. There was probably more around it then, I’m sure. I moved alone to scope out an entrance to get us inside. I had done this a million and one times before. Keep your com open, keep your helm down. 

Secured the entrance, everything was fine.  
“South Entrance secured, copy.”  
The line was quiet.  
“I said the South Entrance was clear. Hello?”  
Perhaps they were fucking around, making jokes, doing stupid shit cons do. That’s not my problem. My problem is the mission and I’ll do it myself.   
“Fine. Standby.”  
I moved out of the loading port that was the entrance and deeper into the base. 

 

Somebody once asked me.  
“Why did you do it? Why did you continue to take these missions?”  
Safety, to be blunt. You do it to fit in. You can’t go without some story to tell about how strong and brutal of a Decepticon you are, about how many Autobot sparks you’ve seen leave optics.   
“Did you brag? Do you remember all of those sparks?”  
Do you have anything you regret? Something you were forced to do and like it? I remember each and every spark, every moment, every killing blow. You remember everything that changes you. 

 

My wings rested close to my back, and I slowed my breathing. I heard a loud crash closer to where I originally came from.  
“I swear to Primus if that was you guys, you’re fucking dead.”  
I quietly rushed back to the South Entrance, sauntered around the corner only to see Iron Claw standing next to another bot I don’t recognize. Where was everyone else? Who was this bot talking to Iron Claw?

 

I’m aware that I deserve everything that comes to a ruthless Decepticon. I’m aware that I should have told Iron Claw that he couldn’t go. I’m aware that I could have been better off taking that position, taking some cons and moving to a new city. The past is the past. Nothing can be changed about something that’s already happened, but you can change how you look at it and how you feel about it.   
I fucking hated him. I still do.

He noticed my helm and twisted his face to a sickening smile. His black frame stood back up right and the bot beside him turned around to see me as well. Autobot. I never learned his name.   
“Prosecutor! You know, I’ve been looking for you.”  
My optics kept moving from mech to mech. What was happening? The Autobot had a red frame with white accent stripes. His demeanor was cold and still. His optics flickered and I knew that the situation I was in was the side of the loser.  
“He’s yours.”  
Iron Claw spoke quickly and turned to exit. The Autobot snapped his fingers and I heard the steps of others behind me. Bad news. Hastily, I ran towards the Autobot in front of me in attempt to get past him. He was a bit larger than I was but with racing stripes, he surely wasn’t great in the air. Quickly, his face switched to one of calmness to one of pure aggression. He crouched down with his servos wide in an attempt to grab me. I leapt up above him and my wings moved me to fly over him before landing on the ground behind him. I couldn’t think about how angry I was at Iron Claw at this exact moment. New mission: Get Out Alive. 

I heard two other Autobots turn the corner where I previously found security and they shouted, more distressed that I had gotten past the larger Autobot. He seemed ticked when he turned around to face me but he only stood there and watched me escape through the South Entrance. Just as I knew there wasn’t roof above my helm, I leapt to transform in the air.

Sometimes you just get so close just for it to get absolutely fucked.

Plasma fire started to rain from what seemed like everywhere. Pieces fell off of me left and right. Searing pain throughout my entire frame. I couldn’t keep like this. I looked up to see where the fire was coming from and there they were. The rest of my strike team of 9 Decepticons were all firing at me in the air in their alt-modes. I couldn’t go anywhere and I couldn’t land. Every shooting star is just a rock on fire bound to crash land somewhere. 

My frame landed on the ground and the fire immediately stopped. I was surrounded by my own scrap and by leaking energon coming from everywhere. Iron Claw walked up from behind my frame and landed a kick behind my shoulder.   
“See Prosecutor, in this war, nothing is set in stone. Nothing is controlled. Everything is done by yourself. Now, the Autobots? Don’t you worry about them. They promised me they would take great care of you.”


End file.
